A Fortunate Accident
by Elleth of Hidden Lore
Summary: The Herald of Andraste had gone to sleep without dinner, and Krem didn't think twice about it before peeking into her tent when she didn't answer his calls for a meal. But when he found the Lady Herald looking back at him, her body clad only in underclothing, he thought he would be blasted halfway across Thedas. But instead, the woman seemed to have other things in mind. M for sex.


**There are so few Krem stories out there. And I've never read a nsfw one. I decided to write one. Though if anyone knows a good one and wants to share pm me!**

 **A Fortunate Accident**

Rowan Trevelyan was always a light sleeper. Hence, every time her party made camp, she would place her tent a considerable distance from the campfire where most of the talking and laughter would happen.

The templar and mages had made a mess of the Storm Coast and Rowan needed to speed up the _cleaning_ process, so she had brought The Iron Bull and his Chargers. It didn't hurt that Krem would be around, which made it a lot easier to talk to him rather than finding excuses to hand around the smithy at Haven. Smith Harritt was beginning to think she was spying on his work.

Still, flirting was difficult when she had to keep most of her focus on staying alert or risk being ambushed by crazed mages, templars, or demons, not to mention that she knew that it would bring unwanted attention from The Iron Bull and his companions as well. The company didn't know discretion even if it bit them in the ass. But she had managed to get closer to him and establish a friendship.

So, it came as a nice surprise when, amongst a sleepy haze, she heard Krem's voice outside of her tent, only to open her eyes to find the man crouched halfway inside her tent with a plate of stew on hand, and his eyes wide and mouth nearly dropping.

Rowan blinked away the fog from her sleepiness as she propped up on her elbows before she realized the reason for Krem's sudden apparent paralysis. She was in her underwear, and a nice one at that.

Rowan looked from her body to Krem with a little smirk. From Krem's reaction, he definitely did not mind the view. This might be the chance she had been waiting for.

"They're really something, aren't they?" she asked in a pleased tone.

Krem blinked himself back into reality before stuttering, "I-uh, what?"

"The underclothing. I got it at Val Val Royeaux from a merchant who wanted me to promote his wears in exchange for whatever I desired from his store. This was my pick."

Krem's eyes momentarily settled once more of the velvety black lace, particularly on the near-sheer part just under her belly button that peeked at soft, caramel skin. His mouth watered.

"Y–yes yo–they are something, y–your Grace. I mean… I'm sorry for intruding. I'll–"

"It's alright, Krem. Would you like to come in?"

Krem stood still for a moment. He had no idea what was going on at all. He couldn't deny that it had been a while since his heart began to beat harder every time he was near the Herald of Andraste. Her strength of both mind and body were certainly appealing. Yet for all her powers, both physical in the political world, she never stepped over anyone, not unless of course, they had tried to step over herself or those without a voice. Then she would rise with the power and confidence that a queen would envy. And still, all this was not what really got Krem to look in her direction every time she passed. It was her gentle but strong-willed character. It was her focused but easy-going ways that did not make her subordinates ever feel intimidated or pressured and made for travel in her company enjoyable. It was how she could ease the tension by cracking a joke or jabbing at pollical figures and the Chantry, and even at the whole situation itself. It was how, despite the heavy burden placed upon her, she moved through the world like a free soul, smiling, and defiant of anything that would tie her to anything of anyone. It was something he could not ever really put into words. It was _her_.

Krem looked over his shoulder. Trevelyan's tent was nearly completely hidden behind most of the company's tents, and no one was really paying him any attention. So, he slipped into the tent and settled on a crouch before her. That's when he realized he had no idea what to do next. Should he sit? Should he start a conversation? Or ask her if she needed him for something? He definitely shouldn't stare too much, but Maker, it was nearly impossible not to look!

"Is that for me?" Rowan asked, looking at the bowl of stew that Krem had all but forgotten he had.

"Y–yes! This, Dalish made it. She always makes good stews. And you went to sleep without diner, so I thought you'd like some. It's really good stew." He said it all in an arrow's shot before he shut his mouth, self-conscious about his rambling.

"Thank you, Krem. It does smell delicious," she said as she reached for the bowl.

Rowan gave the stew a try. It really was delicious, and her stomach growled for more. She took a few quick sips and bites before noticing Krem had gone to staring at her underclothing again.

"Do you like them?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"Yes," Krem said with a nearly breathless whisper.

"Want to touch them?"

Rowan left the bowl aside, parted her legs and pushed out her chest to display her body.

Krem sucked a breath and clenched his jaw to keep from moaning at the sight. It wasn't only that he hadn't been with someone in quite a while, his _situation_ making it a bit more difficult to find a partner. It was that he had wanted her, desired her beyond words for at least two months. And the sight of her was more than he had imagined.

As his thoughts wrecked his mind, he didn't notice when he moved forward and stretched out his hand until he was barely a centimetre away from the thin cloth on her chest.

He wasn't sure if he actually reached forward, or if Rowan pushed her chest to him, but his hand met the warm cloth, and he felt a jolt of heat pool low in his abdomen. His hand gently pressed against the shape of her breast and he allowed his fingers to gently grasp it. His mind erased any thought besides what he was doing and feeling, and his other hand came to grasp the other breast. He ran his finger gently over the soft cloth to find an erect nipple.

The thought that Rowan was actually enjoying this thrilled him. He couldn't yet understand how this was happening, but he was not going to question it now, not when this could have only previously happened in his dreams and fantasies.

"The lower part is also soft and pretty," she said suggestively.

Krem stared at her, making sure he had heard right. Her smile was too encouraging to think twice about it. He caressed the soft cloth, revelling on the soft, plump flesh.

Rowan sighed with contempt.

Krem's hands continued to caress her up and down. His fingers gently pressed and dipped into the moisture pooling there.

Rowan moaned.

Krem's mind went blank. He continued to gently finger her through the cloth as his thumb found her clit.

"Oh, Krem," she gasped his name, and Krem felt his own heat pool between his legs.

Before he knew it, his face was merely inches away from her womanhood. He stopped to look at Rowan, who nodded in return.

Krem pressed his face against her and took a deep breath, allowing her scent to be burned in his mind. Then, he opened his mouth and gently nudged her with his lips as if he was kissing her.

"Mmmm," Rowan moaned.

He needed no more encouraging. Krem fully pressed his mouth against her, allowing his tongue to press against the cloth.

Rowan's body shuddered.

"You can remove them if you want," she said, her voice trembling in anticipation.

Krem wasted no time gently removing her panty. He then stared at the wetness beginning to drip between her legs. He had to hold in a growl before bending between her, grasping her legs pushing his mouth against her entrance.

Rowan gasped and arched her back at the sudden sweet sensation of Krem's heat and tongue.

"Ngh, Krem!" Rowan moaned weakly, overtaken by his sudden eagerness.

Krem's tongue danced in and out of her, flicking his tongue over her clit, and making her jolt every time. He added a finger and arched it upward.

"Fuck, aaah," she gasped, gripping the bedroll. Her head spun as her body.

The heat in her body grew and grew, making her limbs weak and tingly. She tried to lower her voice to not alert the others. But Sweet Maker, she was about to scream Krem's name.

"Hah, ngh, aaah, Krem, I'm…"

Krem felt her walls tighten around his finger and worked all the more eager. He wanted to drink from her. He needed it as if it was his own pleasure. Her moaning and gasping were driving him on like a desperate sailor following a beacon.

Rowan's moans began to pitch and her legs to convulse. She covered her own mouth to not scream as she felt herself climax.

"Aaah, Krem! Yes! Aaaaah!" she choked on a strangled moan as she felt her head go light, and for a few sweet seconds, the world was blissful.

As her climax decreased, Rowan took a deep breath and sighed with contempt. Then, she sat up and smiled at Krem.

The two stared for a moment before Rowan made the first move and leaned forward. Krem moved forward slower, waiting to be sure that she was sure. Then their lips met is a slow, sweet kiss.

Rowan's arms were around his neck, gently grasping him and causing a sweet shiver to run down his spine. His hands slowly went to her waist as he held her against him.

Seconds later they parted and smiled at each other.

Rowan pressed her weight against Krem and pushed him to the floor. Her hand went to his shirt, but Krem's shot to stop her.

Rowan startled and pulled back to let him sit up.

"I'm sorry," she quickly said. "I thought–"

"No," he interrupted. "I'm the one who is sorry, your Grace."

"You're _not_ calling me that, especially not after what we just did."

Krem chuckled. "That's a bit difficult to obey."

They stared at each other for a few awkward seconds. Rowan shifted to sit, looking nervous.

"So, um, about what just happened."

Krem sighed.

"Do you regret it?" Rowan asked.

"No! It's not that at all. I've been wanting thi–" he cleared his throat, trying not to sound too desperate.

Rowan smiled. "I've also been wanting to do this for a while."

Krem blushed. "It's not you. I don't regret this. But I should have told you before…"

He looked at the floor for a moment, trying to calm his nerves. Then he looked back at her with the most serious look she had ever seen him give.

"I was not born a man," he said slowly as if letting the words sink into her.

"Oh," Rowan said. She gave him a sheepish smile and tried not to stare too hard. "I really hadn't noticed."

"Yeah," he said, lowering his face again.

"Does that bother you?" she asked, making Krem snap his face up to hers with surprise.

"No," he said with confidence. He would not be ashamed of who he was. "But I thought that could bother _you_."

Rowan couldn't help to chuckle. "Are you Cremisius Aclassi?"

Krem was confused for a moment before answering. "Yes."

"Then you are the man that caught my eye the day you walked into me at Haven, looking for someone to talk to. You are the reason why I spend too much time around Smith Harrit's smithy and made him think I was spying on him."

She paused, considering her words, considering if it was too much to reveal too soon. But if there was someone she would ever feel inclined to tell something like this, it was him. "You are the man who makes me see the bright side of having received this mark on my hand, because without it, we wouldn't have met. If you are this man, then I don't care how your body parts look under your clothing. I just care that you are Krem."

Krem's blush deepened and he released a partial sob as he closed his eyes to avoid tears from falling. He hadn't realized how much being accepted this way would move him.

Rowan grasped his hand and smiled before pressing her lips to his cheek.

Krem smiled and stared at her warm brown eyes, happier than he remembered ever being.

"So, what do you think the higher-ups will say when they hear the Herald of Andraste chose a mercenary that works for a Qunari?"

"They can shove their words up their ass if they don't want me shoving my staff instead."

"The Lady Herald has spoken," he teased.

"Oh stop," she said as she nudged him. "So, do you wish to continue where we left off?"

"If Your Grace wishes so," he said with a laugh.

"If you say that one more time, I'm blasting you out of my tent."

"And make me explain to the Chief and the boys why I flew out of your tent? I'll die, and they will tell the tale even at my funeral. So, how do you wish me to call you?"

"Hm, I don't know. It's not like I have a name," she said in mock thoughtfulness.

Krem smiled, knowing he would say her name for the first time without a title in it. "Rowan."

"That's more like it, Krem," she whispered as she leaned in for a kiss.


End file.
